


A Vignette - I

by Winter_Genisis



Series: OC Vignettes [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Study, Explicit Language, Short & Sweet, Vignette, how do i write, idk it's been a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9370013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Genisis/pseuds/Winter_Genisis
Summary: A short vignette for one of my original characters, Zephyr Hailtwist. The first of an unnumbered few to come. I'm just trying to flex my writing muscles as I've not written anything for a while. As such, feedback would be appreciated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't published anything in like... over a year. I'm just trying to flex out these writing muscles. Please be gentle with me. This will be the first of a string of vignettes. This particular one was posted on fictionpress first, under the pen name wintergenisis. I'm really rusty but I'm trying, okay?
> 
> My boyfriend was the beta, so if you find mistakes, blame Alex. Please leave plenty of thoughts in the comments.

Tree limbs, bare, stretched out into inky blankness - like bones twisting and writhing in a massive graveyard. Zephyr, at least, thought they looked like bones. Those bare, white trees had always looked so morbid to him.

Somehow, he loved it.

He lay on the ground, unconcerned with his bed of deep snow and set apart from it only by black pants under a suede kilt. The suede was undoubtedly getting ruined, but it could easily be replaced. Money was no object, after all. Held between fingers as ghostly as the trees, was a long pipe full of smoking fae herbs. The smoke curled up and around the trees and disappeared into the sky, and Zephyr watched unseeing through ice blue eyes.

To be able to stay here, in this beautiful world… to be the wild wind and the ice and snow, like he was meant to be… His eyes flashed with desire and more than a hint of anger – _if only he could break these chains of bondage, if only he could come out of hiding_ – but the emotions were quickly stamped out. Self-preservation was, after all, of utmost import. That's perhaps the only thing of worth that his bitch of a mother ever taught him.

Another moment, and Zephyr stood. He stretched out a long, lithe body and fluttering his wings before glamoring them away. He donned his gas mask (customers thought he was ever so eccentric, but that didn't stop them from buying drinks and begging for a fuck) and began his trek back into Berlin, each step heavier than the last. It was always strange when the city lights coincided with the visible poison in the air. Even the lights were poison. Back there, within the wood, it was beautiful, untainted night. But here, humans had even found a way to pollute the world with something as innocent and good as light. He watched as the gas eddied through the non-natural light. If he took his mask off and inhaled this contaminated air, filled with contamination and iron particles, would it really be so terrible if he died?

But it was a fleeting thought, and he was ashamed of himself for even considering it. He trudged on.


End file.
